


One Night to Challenge

by Char (Deiph)



Series: Moonlit Night [4]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiph/pseuds/Char
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek needs to let his Alpha side loose...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night to Challenge

 

Stiles saw it first.

The warning signs. Derek, spending too much time alone in his old, burned home. Derek, struggling against too many small defeats, falling into darkness.

Derek, who now needed them. Stiles knew his mate needed the distraction, needed to know they were there for him and could draw out his strength when he couldn’t find his own.

When they entered Derek’s home and found him in what once had been the living room but was now a charred and blackened space, it could almost be called an ambush. Stiles had wanted it to seem that way as the wolf in Derek _needed_ to be challenged before it would fight back.

Derek was there, seated on an old, fragile wooden chair, lost in his thoughts as he stared at nothing until his instincts and the scents in the air finally told him there were intruders. Three of them. Already in the room behind him.

He rose quickly, turning to look around. And there they were – Stiles, Castiel and Dean – standing in the doorway, watching him.

“I’m not–“ he began with a sigh, not in the mood for what he was sure they were after.

“Not interested?” Stiles finished for him, a determined glint in his eyes as he stared Derek down. “You will be.”

“ _Stiles_ …” Derek gave a warning growl but there was no force behind it.

Stiles walked – _stalked_ – over until he was standing hard against the werewolf, staring right in his face. “Just try to stop me,” he challenged, calmly.

And when Derek tried to do just that and push him away, Dean was over in a second, far stronger than Stiles could be as he slammed into Derek and forced him to the dirty floorboards, flattening him down.

Derek yelled out in surprise and anger, his canines extending and adrenaline flooding into him as he fought against the hunter, their bodies scrambling for dominance as they rolled around entangled together. It only lasted a few moments and they soon broke apart, Derek crouching defensively a few feet away, panting slightly. Dean, half kneeling, looking far too pleased at the reaction he had provoked.

Before Derek could regroup, Cas made his move.  He walked silently, deceptively innocently, as Derek’s narrowed eyes followed him closer until he was squatting eye level with the werewolf. He reached one hand up, Derek’s gaze tracking it carefully, until Cas’ fingers were against Derek’s jaw, his thumb against his lower lip, pushing in once, obscenely, against the opening of his mouth.

The goal wasn’t to dominate Derek that night, though. No, the goal was _quite_ the opposite. So Cas, with his bright eyes now glinting gold, held the werewolf’s gaze and let his fingers slowly trail down from Derek’s lips, under his jaw to his bare neck, down against the material of his tight shirt to feel the hard muscles underneath, down lower until they stopped, pressed against Derek’s erection, stiff beneath the constricting black jeans.

A low, drawn out rumble broke the silence for one, long moment, the sound coming from Derek, full of animal hunger, laden with instinctual sex.

But the wolf still didn’t move.

It hardly mattered. They knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

Cas blinked, breaking eye contact for a moment as he tilted his head, evaluating. He turned away and began stripping off his clothes, making no show of it, just removing what would get in the way of his next move. As he did so he met Dean’s gaze who was still half-kneeling as he watched the scene unfold.

Dean took the hint, a grin spreading across his face as he followed Cas’ example and stripped off his own clothes, rising only long enough to close the distance between them and pull Cas down to the floor until the angel was flat on his back, legs now gripping around his waist. Dean paused then to meet Stiles’ gaze, who was still standing back, hands in pockets, watching silently like the mastermind he was, biding his time, a clever glint to his eyes.

Dean then turned to look at Derek and met the suspicious eyes, gave him a wink, and without warning thrust hard into Castiel underneath.

The word that came out of Cas was far from angelic as Dean didn’t even pause to let him adjust, just thrust again and again, quick, deep movements, hard up inside him. Cas gripped tight around Dean, rolling his head back, his muscles clenching, his mouth falling open as his groaned with each drive that pushed him into the rough, dirty floorboards under his bare skin.

And that was all it took for Derek to snap.

He leaped over in one, unnatural bound and pushed Dean away, instead forcing his place over Castiel and after ripping at his own jeans to release his cock, he thrust himself hard up the angel, forcing a gasped cry of pleasure from Cas’ panting mouth.

Derek barely heard Dean’s low chuckle as their plan continued to unfold, the Alpha challenged and beginning to finally rise to the surface again.

But when Cas, at some unspoken signal, pushed hard against Derek with supernatural strength far beyond what even the werewolf could contend, Derek found himself forced away, frustrated, unfocused, unsatisfied.

And that was when Stiles made his move.

“ _Come_ ,” he said.

It was only one word, part command to a dog, made to provoke the wolf, the double meaning of the instruction clear in the sharp teasing in the boy’s eyes as he stood, having just stripped himself of his clothing, waiting for his mate to close the distance between them and finally let the Alpha off its leash.

Derek _growled_ and pounced, and Stiles was flattened in a fraction of a second to the hard wood of the floor, his breath forced from him as the wolf hunched over him, pushing their bodies together and Derek began dry rutting instinctively against him for a moment as he arched down against Stiles’ throat and breathed in the sex-laden scent. His _mate’s_ scent.  

Another growl, this time far louder, barely human at all, and Derek grabbed hold of Stiles and flipped him over onto his stomach, pulling his hips back until the boy was on all fours underneath him, legs spread apart. He gave no warning, just pushed his cock into Stiles, the feeling temporarily blinding him with nerves sparking wildly into his brain, the animal in him impatient for more, _needing_ more. His fingers dug into Stiles’ hips, gripping him tightly, holding him in place as the sounds the boy was making were driving him wild. Cries, groans, rough, desperate moans, gasps, yells, fragmented, obscene words Stiles shouldn’t have even _known._  The noise was intoxicating, the tightness around Derek’s pounding cock, unbearable, the sensations racing like a flame-thrower through his body.

A deep roar began in the pit of Derek’s stomach, contracting into his throat as it grew in intensity and even Dean, now resting against Castiel across the room, felt the hairs on the back of his neck spike in primitive warning as the Alpha thrust one final, rough, hard ram into Stiles, his eyes burning with the crimson of fire as he  _howled_ his rightful place into the moonlit night _._

 

**The End.**


End file.
